


Scared

by Tom_Tomorrow



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Big Sister Alex Danvers, Big Sister Maggie Sawyer, F/F, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Siblings, Sanvers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 09:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11987271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tom_Tomorrow/pseuds/Tom_Tomorrow
Summary: In that moment, when death stares her directly in the eyes, Maggie Sawyer isn’t scared.Perturbed, maybe, worried, yes.But never scared.She’s never been scared of her own death.\\ A decision is made and the consequences are detrimental to deal with.





	Scared

In that moment, when death stares her directly in the eyes, Maggie Sawyer isn’t scared.

Perturbed, maybe, worried, yes.

But never scared.

She’s never been scared of her own death.

Even when, in her field, a good dose of fear had always been necessary. 

Never. 

The what, the why, the how… Those were all miniscule details.. 

It had always been the finality of the ordeal that sent hackles up her spine. 

The reality of it all suddenly being… over.

Never having the opportunity for reconciliations, for truths, for goodbyes. 

Never having the chance for the what could have been.

And in this moment, the first moment in a long while in which everything in her life was on track, there are too many what could have beens for comfort. 

So she looks into the steel barrel, aimed from roughly twenty feet away.

And feels Alex stiffen next to her.

And hears Kara trail off abruptly. 

Almost, but not quite almost, bumping into the both of them, with the clumsiness of the real Kara Danvers, the one not currently in uniform. 

And curses silently, that neither of them are carrying.

Because they should never have to carry a gun while off duty. 

This wasn’t supposed to be Gotham.

But she isn’t scared.

Because the odds are that this battle is over before it will even begin. 

Because the odds are slim that this is going to be anything more than a skirmish.

It’s really only a matter of concealing Kara’s identity… if it comes to that. 

And maybe she can talk him down-

The gun doesn’t waver when the safety clicks off. 

But the sound echoes off the walls of Alex’s apartment complex. 

Booms in her ears as she takes those few seconds to take in their assailant’s appearance. 

A man. 

Easily six feet. 

Clad in dark, dark leathery clothing.

Legs staunchly apart. 

One hand curled to his stomach.

The other outstretched with the pistol. 

Everything in his stance screams military or, at the very least, some past security experience. 

“Now, wait a minute…”

The detective asserts with forced calm, with forced deliberateness. 

And in the same breath, head tilting ever so slightly to the side, Kara barely whispers a... 

“I can’t see him.”

Alex’s hand is on the detective’s arm now. Gripped so tight.

And she doesn’t have time to really think about what the blonde’s words could have meant because the man is unfurling his hand away from his chest.

Then the cold is like frozen ice seeping through her veins. 

Because dark muted colors and well defined indentations of the baseball sized object are unmistakable.

A grenade.

And the pin is already gone. 

Maggie feels herself being jerked back.

With much more force than Alex could ever use, which means it must be Kara.

Back, back, back as the blonde is suddenly in front of them. 

“Wait! Wait! Kara-”

Alex is yelling , stumbling backwards along with Maggie, having been thrown to presumed safety.

But Kara is beyond gone, beyond listening, beyond anything except containing the bomb. 

And the alien tackles him hard. 

Hard enough for Maggie to hear the resounding crunch.

But then it goes off. 

The boom is muffled. 

The blast is not. 

The windows shatter.

The doors rattle. 

The walls shake.

The remnants of pressure send her and Alex flying, skidding down the stretch of the apartment hallway. 

And just as quickly the heat, the pressure… it’s all gone.

Then everything is gone, her sight, her sensation, everything except the high-pitched ringing in her ears.

It doesn’t abate when her instinctively closed eyes, snap back open. 

And through double vision she sees… green.

Sparkling emerald specks. 

Settling lazy in the air. Sticking to dangling ceiling tiles. To peeling wall paper. 

And when she lifts a hand into her discombobulated line of sight, the green is there too, as the rest of her senses begin to flood back. 

The acrid smell of something not quite familiar.

The rough carpet pressing into her back. 

The ringing disappears .

Replaced with the fire crackling, the smoke alarms going off, the electricity flickering through frayed wires. 

The hiss of sprinkling water.

And… and… Alex!

The detective's breath comes to her easily, propelling herself forward turning to her side.

To Alex, who's already on her feet, hair tousled, clothing torn, mouth already moving.

“-ggie, Are you okay? Are you okay?”

And the detective can only nod dumbly.

Still gathering her wits as she climbs to her feet.

But her girlfriend frantically searches her anyway, just as the detective does the same. 

And as soon as it’s determined that nothing is a life threat, both of them jerk towards the length of the hallway.

Kara.

The entrance to the blonde’s apartment is obliterated. 

Floor boards ripped apart.

Doors splintered to pieces

Ceiling tiles all but gone.

Licks of flame forging a path through charring, soot covered walls. 

And green, green, green. 

A hurricane of fiery chaos. 

And in the middle. 

Kara.

Struggling to stand on unsteady feet

Alex is already gone.

Sprinting. Hard. Fast.

Maggie is right behind her. 

The smell of smoke only grows stronger.

The fragile wood threatens to splinter further under their footsteps. 

People are evacuating from the confines of their apartments Running, screaming from the blast.

But all they can see is Kara, Kara, Kara. 

And….

And….

It’s not good. 

In places where there had been smooth skin is now torn muscle and raw, weeping flesh, ripping up her legs, her arms, her torso, various shades of pink, of red, of glimmering white.

The blonde’s arm is twisted at a more than awkward angle. A bloody mess of battered muscle. 

And she’s favoring her left leg heavily.

But still she stands, shaking, trembling against the remnants of the walls.

Even when smoke rolls off her. 

And Maggie sees in an instant what Kara tried to do. 

What she did do. 

And the consequences of what it did to her. 

And for the first time, the detective realizes what the rapidly dissipating green specks were.

Kryptonite.

Alex doesn’t hesitate. 

Doesn’t pause, though she’s extremely delicate in her actions.

Reaching for her sister.

Her voice portrays no such delicateness.

“Why! Why would you do that, Kara!”

The DEO agent yells. 

Burning tears evident in her misplaced anger.

But the blonde doesn’t answer.

Caught between recoiling from or leaning into Alex’s careful grasp.

“How could you be so… so…”

And the fear is thick, almost smothering her girlfriend’s words.

But Maggie can only see how bad it looks.

How terrifying… how horrific...

And the Kryptonian’s body answers for her, knees buckling, stumbling forward. 

Stifling a groan as Alex, then Maggie who shifts herself under Kara’s other shoulder, are forced to use more pressure to acclimate to the sudden change in weight 

And as the detective’s arm, wraps around Kara’s waist, the crimson comes thick and strong, flowing through her fingers as they clasped the ripped flesh.

And the blood moving over her hand, is thick fluid no warmer or cooler than her own skin, as they lower her to the ground.

It doesn’t do anything to alleviate her pain.

Nothing can alleviate that kind of agony.

“Kara… Talk to me, Kara….”

Alex is saying, a few degrees softer, but no less hysteric. 

Having brought her hands up to the sides of Kara’s face, fingers shaking as she cups them, trying to bring coherency back to the forefront of her younger sister. 

The darkness of the blonde’s pupils almost completely obscure the blue irises.

Dancing around in her head, traveling aimlessly around the room, as she takes raspy, uneven breaths. 

Wide and unfocused, obviously not seeing the same thing they were.

Obviously not with them.

And the detective is already shrugging off what’s left of her jacket.

Pressing it against the pulpy, uneven mess of her torso, through salt filled vision. 

“Kara!”

Alex yells.

And still there’s no response. 

A broken sob is choked off, cut short, as Alex’s hands suddenly overtake hers. 

“C-call J’onn. Call J’onn! He can… Call him!”

Maggie leans back, scoots onto her knees.

As the sprinklers dump water on them.

As the fire struggles to survive. 

As Kara… bleeds.

And her shaking hands, glint darkly under the flickering light as she dials in the number. 

Turns away so she doesn’t have to look.

Don’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlook….

Yells frantically into the phone at J’onn, who sounds confused, then understands all too well. 

Who says he’s coming.

Who says he’s bringing the sun lamps.

Who says they need to hold on. 

And when she turns back… Alex has used her belt to tie off Kara’s am.

Because now it's only all they can do to keep her together until the lamps get here. 

Until they have that sun.

Maggie hastens to help.

Help Kara, who’s slipping between the loose boundaries of consciousness and unconsciousness, stuck somewhere in between. 

Head tipping forward as if she’s falling asleep or as if it is too heavy to hold up. 

And the blonde shudders weakly against Alex’s unrelenting touch.

Heavily, sharply, heaving in quaking, uneven breaths. 

Moaning loudly, but doing very little to actually get away.

The detective doesn’t know if it’s because she can’t or she won’t.

But the focus is there.

If only slight.

“A…. Ahlexug….”

Maggie snaps up to Kara’s face.

Expression contorted into an agonized grimace, bloody teeth clenched tightly together. 

Because Alex doesn’t seem to hear, busy trying to stop everything else that won’t.

And Maggie isn’t even sure it was said.

Just barely a whisper in the chaos.

Barely heard. 

Barely.

“Al-alex… I g-got it…. Right…. I stopped…. It… I-I….”

And good god, she’s still asking. 

Voice light and airy. But somehow heavy and stuttered and slurred. 

Still though, Alex has heard now.

And Alex is nodding. 

Feverently, with tears in her eyes, obviously doing everything she can not to hug her sister.

Hold her close. 

Because that won’t take the pain away. 

“Then… why… why ah- are…. Y-you c-ryinugh?”

And the lethargy behind her words is painfully present.

Dragging each syllable out with evident struggle. 

Gasping for breath in the plentiful pauses

“I-I’m not crying Kara… I’m not.”

Alex lies.

Anyone with eyes could see that.

And Maggie feels Kara growing cooler under her own touch.

And that worries her because Kara had always run warm. 

Had always been what would pass for fever temperature.

The blonde’s brow furrows, but the focus is dissipating.

The adrenaline of the sharp pain, rapidly wearing off.

“G… goood… I-I… I… hate it w-when… you cry…”

Softer still.

Fragile pants of breath barely able to carry the sound. 

And Maggie stifles her own pain. 

Because someone has to hold themselves together.

And it shouldn’t have to be either of the Danvers sisters. 

And Alex doesn’t say anything, just nods, just leans closer, and shakes with her own burning tears. 

Because it is not fear this time that wraps its tendrils around her heart now, turning it erratic beneath her ribs.

It is not fear. Fear is for the unknown.

It is dread; dread is for knowing what is to come and knowing that it cannot be stopped.

It is a cold and bitter dread that bleeds its way into the spaces between her bones, coating her with heavy mercury; slowing her down. 

Because the detective already knows what this looks like. 

But Alex had almost become a doctor, would have been one in the what could have been.

And Alex knows more about her sister than anyone ever would. 

So Alex really knows. 

Really knows what it means...

“You’re doing great, kid… You're doing great. Just hang on a bit longer.”

The detective feels the heat of unshed tears in her eyes as she stutters a stream of reassurance, as much to Alex as to Kara… as to her. 

Hold on just a little longer, please, please…

Confusion, agony, worry, flits across the blonde’s pale features.

Kara’s head twitching as if she wants to turn, but can’t quite figure out where the sound is coming from. 

And eventually it must be too much, because then her eyes close. 

Clench tight.

“No. Stay awake! You have to stay awake!”

Alex shouts, shaking her sister rougher than what is probably warranted. 

But it forces out the desired response.

And heavy lidded, cobalt eyes peer through barely opened lids. 

“I… I b-broke your apartment, A-Ale… lex… I-I… I broke..”

The sincerity in her apology is painful to hear. 

“It’s your apartment, Kara. I gave it to you, remember?”

And the forced calm, Alex was exuding earlier is fracturing, fraying, dissipating. 

Until she’s practically begging, when Kara doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even register like she’s heard.

“I let you have it after you… after you graduated college, remember? Remember?”

Kara nods slightly, with the feeble rise and fall of her chest. 

“Y-yeah....”

More of a cough than anything else.

And the light of her eyes begins to fade. 

Glassiness taking over the pain. 

Gasps agonal and weak. 

And nothing either of them can say, will rouse her further.

And she shouldn’t have… 

She shouldn’t have jumped ahead.

She should have...

She should have looked before she leapt. 

She should have… she should have…

Because this shouldn’t be it.

Because Kara is bright and Kara is bubbly and Kara has way too many what could have beens.

She has too many opportunities for reconciliations, for truths, for goodbyes. 

And God, if anyone was warranted that extra time, it is Kara.

But instead they’re here.

In the decimated hallway of Alex’s apartment building.

Lights flickering in the dark, smoke wisps in the air, the chaos of destruction whirling around them.

And J'onn isn't here. Not yet.

Instead it’s just the three of them.

Alex’s, bloodied hands running through Kara’s blond hair. 

The detective’s own pressing against the ghastly mess of her abdomen. 

And as the blonde lets out one final rattling breath, Maggie realizes that maybe she is scared of death.

It just isn’t her own.


End file.
